SANCTUARY
the table and his face hidden in them, sat Dick Peyton.
He did not seem to hear his mother's approach, and she stood looking at him, her breast tightening with a new fear.
"Dick!" she said, "Dick—!" and he sprang up, staring with dazed eyes. But gradually, as his gaze cleared, a light spread in it, a mounting brightness of recognition.
"You've come—you've come—" he said, stretching his hands to her; and all at once she had him in her breast as in a shelter.
"You wanted me?" she whispered as she held him.
He looked up at her, tired, breathless, with the white radiance of the runner near the goal.
"I had you, dear!" he said, smiling strangely on her; and her heart gave a great leap of understanding.
Her arms had slipped from his neck, and she stood leaning on him, deep-suffused in
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